The Price of Freedom
by LLFOREVER
Summary: PostLTDA. Who ever said freedom was free? Deliberately confusing short drabbles of the captives. One shot, Jate implied.


**Title:** The Price of Freedom  
**Rating:** PG  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own Lost, etc.  
**A/N:** Read, review. It's a post-LTDA fic, and it's kind of different for me. I'm not sure how it came out... let me know what you think!

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A rough hand grabs his arm and jerks him into a room. A man rips the blindfold off his head, and he resists the urge to spit in the man's face. It's just the kind of thing he'd do, but he fears for their lives, for the lives of his only friends. 

"Here's the deal. We don't want your friends, but you have to be the one to let her go. You do that, and they can go back to their camp, unharmed." He closes his eyes. They've already been harmed. Not physically, but he knows that they've been harmed.

Why do they want him? He's nothing special, and he never has been. His voice is full of venom as he asks that very question, but the man only stares him down.

"Can I see her first?"  
--  
She sits on the floor of the dark room and sighs. They told her that she could go, but she can't. She can't leave the person who has been there for her.

They've offered her food, but she refuses to eat or drink until they'll let her see him. They say that he's fine, but she won't believe it until she sees it.

Her head throbs as she closes her eyes and leans back against the wall. She knows now – she doesn't know how to be strong, and for once, she doesn't want to be. She needs him.

From the moment she saw him, she felt a connection, but she tried to fight it off. She has used up all logical reasons to stay away from him. She's Kate and he's Jack. That's all the reasoning she needs.  
--  
When he sees her again, pain shoots through him. He can tell that all of her tears have been spent. She's hurting, and he can't do anything to fix it. Her hands aren't bound anymore, and her mouth isn't gagged. They know that she won't try to run away because she can't leave _him_.

He used to think that he loved her, but now he knows that he didn't. He never loved her that way. He wants to help her, and it hurts him because he knows what it means that he has to do. For a moment, he cracks the faintest hint of a smirk. He doesn't remember how many books he's read, but he realizes that this whole ordeal would make a good story.

He's never been one to get attached, and he can't start now. He almost chuckles to himself. He's been attached to them both since they landed in this hell hole. And now their survival is dependent on him.

_Do you listen to your head? Or do you follow your heart?_

His head tells him to mentally let go. Isn't it every man for himself? If he's going to get through this, then it has to be.

_If we can't live together, we're gonna die alone._

But his heart… his heart tells him that they're in this together, and that means he has to let them go. He finds it only slightly ironic that he's going to follow the good doc's advice.

He looks up at her. The spark in her eyes is dull, and only one person can fix it. And he is not that person.  
--  
He glares at the man who stands guard and spits on the ground. He refuses to go down this easily. They've told him that he can go, but he won't go, not without her. She has his back, and he has hers. After all that they've been through, he can't leave her, not now.

A part of him hopes that she needs him, but even more of him knows that he needs her. He's needed her since the moment he saw her. She was there for him, and now it's his turn to be there for her.

On the other hand, he trusts that his friend will be able to handle himself. Anyone who can con his way around the country can surely handle these guys. It's not that he doesn't like him or care about him; it's just different.

If he left, he would never forgive himself. She's said so herself; no other girl is just like her, and he's not about to give her up, even if it means his life.  
--

She wants to blame _him_, but she can't. She agreed to go along, and she kept going, even after he revealed what the plan was. Besides, he came back for her.

Tears roll down her cheeks as she wonders if she's good enough for him. She wants to believe that she would have gone back for him, but she doesn't know, and not knowing hurts more than it would have if she'd left him.

Someone enters the room, but she knows it's not him. That's not his smell or his step. When he kneels by her, she glances up, eyes glistening with tears.

"Hiya, Freckles. I'm gonna get you and the doc outta here, okay?" His voice is soft, but his eyes hold a deep hatred for the people who did this to them.

"I don't, I don't know if I deserve to go," she cries. "We left you there. Would I have left him?" Instantly, he knows what she's talking about. He grabs her chin and yanks it up, so her eyes meet his.

"You wouldn't have. I know you, and that's not you." She tries to find solace in his words, but she doesn't believe him. Don't people say that history is destined to repeat itself?

"I left a man I loved once. I left him to die. How do you know?" He stares at her for a moment and then pulls her into a bone-crushing hug.

"I know because that man wasn't Jack." He whispers words of goodbye in her ears, and then he lets her go.  
--  
When they see each other, her face is tear-stained and wet. He wears a hardened expression on his face, but the corners of his mouth lift slightly when he sees her. From the short distance between them, she looks okay, but he's not convinced.

She's done with the tough façade. Sure, she's tough, but she needs him, and something tells her that he needs her, too. He looks exhausted; she makes a mental note to make him rest.

They begin running toward each other, and they collide in a tangle. Tears stream down her face as she feels him running his hands over her face, checking for scrapes and cuts.

"Let's get outta here," he whispers. She nods and grabs his hand. She's not letting go, and she's not running. She wants to tell him everything, and she will, eventually, but not now.

He holds her hand tightly. Later tonight, by the fire, he'll tell her that Alex is helping Sawyer escape. He'll tell her everything, about his ex-wife, about his father, and about his life before the crash, but right now, he's content to just walk. Who ever said freedom was free?

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A/N: Review, review, review. Thanks again. 


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